


The Secrets We Hide

by Breadyboyo



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Angst, Eddie Kaspbrak is a Good Friend, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Good Parent Maggie Tozier, Government Experimentation, Human Experimentation, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Period-Typical Homophobia, Recovery, Slurs
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-25
Updated: 2021-03-10
Packaged: 2021-03-18 07:01:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,037
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28988193
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Breadyboyo/pseuds/Breadyboyo
Summary: A five-year-old child, one who can no longer remember his name, is taken to be experimented on for research when he shows signs of manifesting psychic capabilities.After five years of captivation, when a test goes awry and the subject's powers go berserk, a tragedy ensues. After the chaos settles, no survivors are left - and the subject is missingRichie Tozier, the eleven-year-old son of Maggie and Wentworth Tozier, moves to Derry after his father loses his job. Richie makes a few friends on the first day of school, and everything feels like it might finally go well.That is, until the interest of recapturing the run-away subject arises.
Relationships: Eddie Kaspbrak & Richie Tozier, Maggie Tozier & Richie Tozier, The Losers Club & Richie Tozier
Comments: 6
Kudos: 10





	1. summer

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [My Past Haunts Me](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25632991) by [Breadyboyo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Breadyboyo/pseuds/Breadyboyo). 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To those coming from MPHM, the original fic this rewrite is from, I apologize for the long wait! After the last chapter that I posted for it, my motivation kinda just fell downward until I started writing other fics. Now that I've been rejuvenated, I'll _hopefully_ actually finish this one.
> 
> And for the ones that didn't read that one, I hope you enjoy this one instead!

A well-suited man looked past a glass wall that separated the hallway from the room and the contents inside - towering machines standing side-by-side and beeping computers processing information as fast as it spat it out into existence in paper form.

“So, your department detected something?”

“Yes, sir. We think it might be the subject we’ve been looking for.”

Inside the room, a screen showed an image of a map as a bold, red ‘X’ blinked above a specific area.

“Where?”

“A small town beside Bangor. Derry, Maine.”

* * *

Richie sat in class, attempting to balance a pencil on his finger to pass the painfully long last minutes of school for months; As the scorching-hot weather arrived in Derry, so did summer.

A mixture of impatient finger-tapping against tables and foot-bouncing against the tile floor filled the classroom as everyone held their gaze to the clock ticking second by second to their summer vacation.

As the longest hand touched the twelve, a bell rang across the entire school. Excited cheers left everyone’s mouth before school books and writing utensils were shoved into bags as rushedly and sloppily as the bags themselves were slung over the student's shoulders.

Choruses of unmeant goodbyes were yelled out to the teacher as they filed out of the classroom. Richie walked out, instantly met with the two of his friends as they left their shared chemistry class with similarly joyous expressions plastered on their faces.

The three fell into conversation, their banter merging in with the countless other chatter and gossip that would naturally be had in the hallways of a high school

“I’m tellin’ ya, Eds. You can’t knock cannibalism until you try it. I mean, yeah it’s immoral and probably illegal and shit, but-”

“Ugh,” The shorter boy let out an exasperated groan. “That’s disgusting, Rich.”

A wide-eyed grin was plastered over the boy’s expression at the reaction. “What about you, Big Bill? Would you give cannibalism a try?” His eyes turned to the other boy next to him.

“I don’t know, R-Ruh-Richie. Maybe?” Bill said, giving a shrug before returning to gripping his backpack. The three continued to converse as they walked past classrooms that would stay empty and unused for months and groups of children that couldn’t have possibly worn a happier expression.

Richie looked around in search of a familiar mop of curly hair, only to find none. 

“Have you guys seen Stan?” Richie said, eliciting confused looks from the two. “Don’t know. Haven’t seen him since recess a few hours ago.”

And almost as if on cue, a fourth pair of footsteps were heard trailing behind the group. Stan, in a button-up that unlike Richie’s was actually buttoned-up, joined the group as they walked - garnering greetings from his friends and an obscene joke from Richie. 

“So what are you guys gonna be doing this whole summer?” Eddie asked, shifting the conversation topic as they stepped outside.

“What else would I be doing then having the sweet pleasure of sleeping with your mom, Eds?” Richie said as Stan rolled his eyes and Bill gave a small shake of his head. Eddie’s face contorted into pure disgust, giving a resounding smack to the boy’s stomach as he threw his head back in laughter.

“So why do they need to slice the tip of your dick off again, Staniel? Wouldn’t you go like, full woman if you did?” A nudge from Richie’s elbow rattled an exasperated response from the boy.

“Again, Richie, that’s not how it-” He cut off as a leg appeared in front of him, tripping him and giving him a face full of grass. A chorus of laughter followed as Bowers and his gang surrounded the four.

“Well, well, well. If it isn’t this shitty town’s very own loser flamers. Where you fags off to? Sucking each other off in some dirty alley?”

“Fuck off, Bowers.” Richie hissed out, picking up a grass-stained Stan off the ground. Bowers crouched down, meeting him at eye level before scrunching his face in disgust.

“You know, maybe if you didn’t associate with these,” Bowers’ splayed hands gestured to his friends behind him, “Losers, you might’ve actually avoided catching that _disease_. But hey, two years later, you’ve made your choice very clear.” he spat out - vitriolic venom behind the boy’s words before he pushed Richie to the ground.

Bill and Eddie rushed to his side, eyeing Bowers as he and his goons walked away. 

“Have a good summer, losers.” he yelled, the stray comment ignored by them in favor of helping Richie up.

They stood in the searing sun with two of them wearing grass-stained clothes.

“I really, really don’t like that guy.” Stan said, everyone nodding in agreement.

* * *

The sound of tires skidding against asphalt road filled the area as Richie gripped the brakes to his bike. The sun had just set, as evident with the orange tint that bled into the blue sky outside.

Richie entered his house, the familiar sight of his father watching what he assumed to be soccer (really, it could’ve been anything) from the cheering that came from the TV and his mother finessing her way in the kitchen to the tune that the radio was playing.

“Hey, sweetie. How was your day today?” Maggie called from the kitchen upon hearing the ‘click’ of an opening door, peeking her head out to greet him. Giving her a smile and a wave, Richie responded with an ‘It was fine, mom.’ before going up the stairs to his room - leaving no chance for further conversation.

As he locked his bedroom door behind him, a groan left his lips as he slid down the wooden frame and down to the floor.

Bringing his knees to his chest and wrapping his hand around them, he let out a sob.

_When are you gonna tell the truth? When are you gonna tell them the truth?_

Pulling apart his arms, Richie took a peek at the palm of his hands through the crevice between his knees - looking deeply into each skin molecule as if it would give him the answer he was looking for.

_You’re heartless for lying to these poor people - taking advantage of their hospitality. You don't deserve them. You’re shameless, you’re vile._

_You’re a freak._

Beads of tears slid down his cheeks as glassy eyes forced themselves closed.

“Shut up!” Richie yelled to nobody but himself.

The furniture around the room shook with such rigorousness that one would assume an earthquake had just struck his room.

And just as suddenly as it started, the shaking stopped.

Richie Tozier, feeling utterly drained, sobbed quietly with knees up to his chest until he found the energy to crawl his way to bed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woo. Finally got this out there. I'll be releasing an update after I release the update for my other ongoing fic, the love that's brewing (in a cauldron) _(shameless plug but if you like hp and clown movie go check it out)_ , so yeah. I'll see ya then.
> 
> (Oh, and I'll also be trying to keep a bi-weekly update schedule. Hopefully I'll actually be able to keep it)


	2. beginning

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Helloooooo peeps! I got this out surprisingly early. If you didn't check my last AN, I said that I would keep a bi-weekly update schedule for this fic. But I had some free time on my hand, and the recent online class workload has been a little less overwhelming, so here we are.
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

A man in a suit took a puff from his cigarette - the smell of smoke mixing in with the smell of burnt asphalt. The road ahead stretched on as the summer heat caused it to have a wave-like appearance. 

“God this fucking heat’s killing me. What, they couldn’t send one of those white-jacket nerds to go check out this ‘signal’?” The man said as one of his arms extended out the front passenger window, shaking off burnt cigarette parts.

“Stop complaining, stress cuts years off your lifespan. Assuming you don’t die at 40 from lung cancer with all that smoking you do.” The man driving the car said, his voice monotone.

“Oh, shut it. We’ve been partnered together for years and yet you still find ways to both annoy me and reprimand my smoking.”

The conversation ended after that, the two continuing to drive forward.

After another half-hour in the summer heat, they see a far-away object - the square-ish figure obscured by the heat-emitted waves.

“Is that it?” The man asked, his head leaned forward with squinted eyes in an attempt to see better.

“I sure hope so. It’d be unpleasant if I have to stay in this cigarette smoke-filled car with you for any longer.” The other man commented, his eyes not leaving the road.

“Ugh, just keep driving.” He crossed his arms, staring to the side as they passed the sign:

_Welcome to Derry!_

* * *

“Tally ho, Eds! Move ye’ slow ass!” Richie yelled as he accompanied his bicycle up the forest.

“Ugh, shut up, Richie. It’s really hot okay? Do you know how high the risk of a person experiencing a heat stroke is in this kind of weather?”

“Hey, if getting a heat stroke means I get to meet a hot nurse that takes care of me 24/7, then I ain’t afraid to get a little warm.” Richie said, garnering an eye roll from his best friend at the joke as the two continued the hike upward.

As they reached a clearing of trees, they’re met with the sight of their other friends - some still dressed and some ready for a swim.

“H-H-Hey, R-Richie, Eddie.” Bill stuttered out, waving hello at the group’s two missing members.

“Took you guys long enough!” Beverly said as if the whole 10 minutes they waited were painfully excruciating. “Now come on. Last one in is Trashmouth’s unwashed underwear!” she screamed as she jumped off the cliff and into the water below.

“Jokes on you! I don’t wear underwear!” Richie bounced back, yelling down at the pool of water as the comment sent waves of disgust in the Losers behind him. Bill, Mike, and Ben shook their heads in repulsion while Stan and Eddie took to gagging.

One by one, everyone took a dive toward the pool of water below. The feeling of the cooling water soaking against their skin was a refreshing break from the summer heat. The group spent the time splashing each other with waves of water and engaging each other in chicken fights.

“Get them, Edward! We must dismount them and win this war!” Richie exclaimed, holding onto the hypochondriac’s legs as the boy rode on his shoulders. On the other side, Stan lay his legs over Bill’s shoulder - his wobbly balance almost causing him to fall.

“Y-You got this, S-Stan.”Bill said, holding onto the curly-haired boy's thighs to keep them in place. As the four Losers battled, the other three were a distance away, having a conversation  
of their own.

“I meant to ask, what are you learning right now at home, Mike?” asked Ben.

“Oh, I’m pretty sure I’m learning the same subjects as you. Maybe just a little behind.” The two continued to talk with Bev chiming in sometimes to give her comment or opinion on the current subject. 

As the sun high above began to descend, the group swam to shore, drying and clothing themselves before beginning the walk back.

“Ah. Isn’t it so refreshing to have a dip after such a hot day, Eds?” Richie said before stretching his arm and draping it across his friend’s shoulder, much to his exasperated chagrin.

“Ugh, get your germ-filled arms off me, Trashmouth. I can’t imagine how much bacteria you house in that body of yours.” Eddie said, slipping out of Richie’s hold.

“That’s definitely not what your mom said last night, Spaghetti.” 

“Beep-beep, asshole! Fuck you!” Eddie yelled, smacking Richie’s abdomen as retaliation for the obscene joke that left the boy’s lips.

The two’s banter incited laughter in some while the others hid their entertainment by stifling a snort. The sun set further, and when the once blue sky bled orange, everyone said their goodbyes before splitting ways.

Even in the afternoon, the heat was still present in the air as Richie walked home; a testament to just how hot summer in Derry could be.

The neighborhood was silent - nobody in sight as he walked past more and more houses. Suddenly out of nowhere, an inexplicable headache struck Richie. The pain was enough to make his knees buckle as he fell to the sidewalk below.

One thought kept playing in his aching mind:

_‘Something bad is coming.’_

* * *

“So, this is Derry, huh? Looks like any other small shitty town if you ask me.” A man said, stretching his arms as he left the car.

“We’re not here for a vacation, so it doesn’t matter.” Answered the other man as he pressed a button, locking the vehicle.

“Yeah, yeah. Well, since it’s already night, we can’t really get any work done. Let’s go find a hotel or something.”

“We haven’t even driven for that long.”

“And you tell me you're not some fucking no emotion-having robot. Now stop standing there and help me find a place for us to sleep in this shitty town.”

“Fine, whatever."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I thought about having just two boring people with no relation to each other being the agents here, but I decided to instead give the two some history together! The two agents (whose name I'll be revealing sooner or later) have been paired together on missions prior to the current events in this fic, and so they're less like corporate robots working solely for the government, but more people that have actual substance and chemistry together.
> 
> Hope to see you in the next one!
> 
> * * *
> 
> yell at me on my discord here: bread#6010  
> i'm currently in the works of building a discord server. its got most of the technical stuff, i just need to add a few more channels until i get it out there.


	3. the storm that's approaching

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> heeeeeyaaaaaaaa
> 
> I know I said a bi-weekly update schedule, but I've been kinda occupied with life and shiz. Online schoolwork has been driving me insane, but I'm finally getting a control of it. Sorry for this being about a day late, but hey, what can ya do about it.
> 
> Hope y'all enjoy, and I'll see you in the next one!

A constant, monotone ticking that came from the wall clock filled Richie’s bedroom as he looked over his summer assignment paper - barren and lacking any progress.

With an exasperated sigh, Richie stored the piece of parchment and made a mental note to do it later.

Richie moved to the bean bag that sat messily next to his laundry basket filled with clothes that were either stained with dirt or emanating an inexplicably foul smell. Or both.

Sinking into the soft fabric, Richie let his thoughts wander.

Ever since yesterday, small bouts of sudden, erratic, and searing pain shot straight to his head. And the pain wasn’t the only thing that came with these moments. Accompanied with the aching were words that repeated in his mind, all leading to the same implication:

__

Something bad - dangerous, even - was coming to Derry.

Every waking moment, the thought would prick at the back of his mind - distracting him from whatever it was he was doing prior. It was annoying, it was constant, and worst of all, it wasn’t something Richie could just put in a drawer and ignore for extended periods of time.

“Richie! Breakfast is ready!” His mother exclaimed, her voice somehow audible past closed doors and from one story lower. With that, he got up from his spot and trodded downstairs - his thoughts still fresh in his mind.

* * *

“Ahh, finally. This bed is probably the shittiest bed I’ve laid my back on, but it beats those shitty leather seats.” A man said, limbs sprawled across one of the two queen-sized beds in the room.”

“Ugh. Well, since you’ve already,” The other man’s hands gestured to the occupied bed. “Marked that one, I’ll take the other one.”

“Aww, does my widdle fwagile Arthy not want this bed after I’ve spread my ‘me’ all over it?” His voice took on a mocking tone, much to the other man’s chagrin.

“Yes. That’s _exactly_ the reason why.”

“Well, I didn’t see you complaining when we were sharing that tiny fucking bed when we were sent to Portland.”

“That was because our budget got cut, you idiot. And for the record, Theodore, _you_ were the reason our budget got cut.”

“How is it my fault when those damn fuckers on the board don’t know a good purchase to the cause when they see one?” he pouted, crossing his arms together.

The other man cast a doubtful expression. “I am not using my precious sleeping time to argue with you about the usefulness - or in this case - lack of use of all the things you bought with your frivolous spending. Go to bed.” he waved off, draping the covers across his body before turning the bedside lamp off.

Theodore let out a low grumble before following suit.

* * *

Richie, lost in thought, was snapped away from his daze with a small smack to the back of his head. His eyes blinked in confusion before realization hit him of where he was.

“Earth to Richie. You there?” asked Stan from beside him, the worry thick in his voice.

“Of course I am, Stanley. Apologies for worryin’ ya’, I was quite preoccupied with lewd thoughts of your mother, of course; the usual.” Richie tried his best to force out a laugh to accompany his joke, but his attempts seemed futile as the other boy flashed him a doubtful raise of the brow.

“Richie you’ve been getting distracted a lot recently. Is something on your mind?” Jokes rose to the top of his throat, ready for him to use to deflect the question. Or at least, that was the plan before Stan added a “And don’t try to joke your way out of this. I know you, Richie.”

His expression deflated like a balloon before his friend gave him a reassuring pat on the shoulder. Stan closed the bird encyclopedia the two were reading (or more like the one Stan was reading as Richie interrupted him whenever possible with absurd questions), setting it down beside him on his bed before turning to Richie once more.

“Richie, I’m your best friend. You can tell me anything, right?” Stan said, his calm and soothing voice trying to ease him. 

Richie’s gaze, in an attempt to avoid eye contact, drifted to the various posters detailing birds of all kinds that his curly-haired friend hung around his room.

“I think it’s getting late, Staniel. I’ll see you with the Losers tomorrow, alright?” The sentence garnered a frown that was clear on Stan’s face.

Standing up from his spot on the bed, Stan gave him a few parting words as he walked past the door frame:

“I’m here to talk if you ever need me, Rich.

* * *

“Don’t do anything stupid or brash. But seeing as it’s you, I’m not getting my hopes up.”

“Wow. That was fuckin’ rude.”

“Can you blame me? Now, you know your assigned locations, right?”

“Yeah, yeah. I’m checking around boring neighborhoods and schools, and you get to check around all the places that might actually be interesting.”

“I don’t get to _do_ anything. As you said, this is an incredibly small town. I highly doubt anything here will be of interest.” Arthy gave an eye roll. “And again, we’re not here for a fun trip. Find the subject, and then return him for further testing. This is gonna be the biggest assignment we’ve gotten, so for the love of God, Theodore, don’t mess it up.”

“Oh, please. We’re just bagging some kid according to those fuckwads. How hard can that be?”

“Considering the ‘kid’ that you’re mentioning completely wiped out the laboratory they had situated here, I’d say pretty hard.”

The two men left the hotel - their attire switched to a more casual one. Even with the unassuming apparel, dozens of various gadgets and machinery hid under their clothes.

“Let’s just get this over with.”

“Well, that’s one thing we can agree on.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Arthy and Theo act like bickering husbands, but when it comes to their job, there's nothing they get more serious over. Hopefully their shenanigans don't steer you away from the fact that these people are extremely experienced in their line of work.
> 
> (and hopefully I didn't make them out as complete comedic relief villains)
> 
> Hope y'all enjoyed, and I'll see ya in the next one!
> 
> * * *
> 
> shameless plugs:
> 
> birb app: @Breadyboyo  
> scream in my ears about my horrid update schedule on Discord: bread#6010


	4. red flags

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *nervous laugh*
> 
> yeah... about that bi-weekly update schedule...
> 
> But alright, between outlining this chapter and the next one, procrastinating on my homework, and actually writing the chapter, I had a lot of stuff on my plate. I'm _**hopefully**_ gonna be able to keep on track next update, but well, lets just pray

Theo flicked a part of his burnt cigarette off, taking another long huff before dropping it and quickly putting it out under his shoe. He had just finished checking half of the nearby houses, leads still nowhere to be found. The summer sun came down on him - the brutal heat garnering a swear or two from him as he was forced to wipe the drops of sweat off his forehead.

Pressing a button under the collar of his suit, his current outfit started shimmering as if it was non-corporeal and ready to vanish. His current attire completely changed - the formal suit he wore just a few moments ago turning into a uniform of a pest control worker.

With another press of the button, an audio recorder turned hidden on him turned itself on. Approaching the next house, Theo found himself in front of another seemingly normal suburban house that a normal suburban household would occupy.

_”Well, as normal as a household possibly housing a dangerous government specimen can be, at least.”_ he thought to himself as he got to the front door. 

Raising his fist and preparing to knock against the wooden frame, he spotted the small button beside the door which so obviously was the doorbell. He lowered his fist, opting instead to press a finger against the button that caused a small ‘ring’ to chime from inside.

Footsteps got louder in volume the more time passed before the door unlocked with a ‘click’ - swinging inward to reveal a woman, long brown hair and thick-rimmed glasses shielding her eyes, who seemed to be in her 30s.

“Oh. What can I do for you, sir? The woman said, her face tender. Theo saw through it though; a cautious and wary tone seeped into her voice, revealing what she thought of him

“Good day, mam. There’s been a widespread termite issue in this neighborhood, and we were wondering if you would like your house to be checked to ensure that it doesn’t house any unwanted critters.” He said in a professional-sounding voice.

“Oh my.” she gasped out, a look of alarm on her face. “That’s quite awful. Please, come inside.”

The woman gestured inside, moving to the side to allow Theo entry. Stepping inside, he could tell that the woman had prior been cooking something - the smell of food wafting in the air.

“Right, mam. I’ll just be running a small inspection. We can do a full inspection on the severity of the termites are if I were to find any.”

Scanning the first floor of the home, framed photos could be seen everywhere; hung on the walls nearby and standing on coffee tables in the living room. The actual content of the photos varied. Some contained pictures of a man and a woman clad, one clad in a fancy suit and the other in a sleek white dress. Wedding photos.

The rest of the pictures had the two married couple as well as a child that seemed to be their son - thick-rimmed glasses and messy, uncontrollable hair the prominent features of the boy.

What struck Theo as odd was the fact that all the pictures he could see were of this child somewhere around the age of ten. Nowhere could he spot a picture of the boy as a baby, or toddler, or anything remotely younger than what he looked like in the pictures. One would think that a family that liked displaying pictures of their family would also include baby pictures of their child.

Theo pondered what it could mean.

* * *

“C’mon, Eds! I wanna try it! Just one lick!” Richie whined, outstretching his tongue toward the cone of mint chocolate chip ice cream Eddie had in his arm - unable to reach the frozen treat as the shorter boy somehow managed to keep him away.

“God no, Richie! I’m not letting you put your trashmouth on my ice cream. Do you know how many diseases can spread through contact with another person’s saliva?” Eddie scolded, an appalled look on his face.

“Well, you probably shouldn’t let your mom kiss you today, Eds. Mrs. K got the whole ‘Richard Tozier’ experience last night.” he said with a cackle, earning a shove from his friend for the crude joke, along with a “Beep-beep, asshole! That’s so gross.”

“Y-You can try my ice cream, R-Ruh-Richie.” Bill offered with a smile. “Aww. See, Eds? Maybe you should be as nice as good ol’ Big Bill here.” said Richie, taking a small taste of the boy’s ice cream, only to sputter in disgust before spitting it back out.

“What the fuck was that ice cream flavor? Bird shit?”

“N-No, R-Richie. It w-was P-Puh-Pistachio.”

“They should rename it to Pistashito.”

The joke garnered a chuckle or two from their friends as Bill merely gave a disapproving shake of the head before returning to his ice cream.

As the group of seven continued to walk across town, Arthy had just returned from inspecting the nearby park for any signals, to no luck.

The man clad in a black suit and tie was a sight that differed from anyone else nearby who wore casual clothing. The Losers talking about their summer plans and Arthy looking for a place to search next barely noticed each other as they crossed paths, but when they did, two things happened to two people.

Arthy received a loud ‘beep’ from the machine inside his suit as he walked by - the object meant to detect any signal of strong psychic energy that would naturally emulate from their missing subject.

Richie felt a cold chill shoot straight up to his spine as he walked by - goosebumps spreading all over his limbs.  
Neither showed a reaction, and neither stopped to look back.

But both knew that something was off with the other.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Richie's not in for a good time.
> 
> * * *
> 
> shameless plugs:
> 
> twat(ter) where I don't actually tweet anything: @Breadyboyo  
> discord where I spend 25 hours of my day on. if you want to talk, ask questions, or scream at me for my god-awful update schedule, add me over at bread#6010


End file.
